Mirage
by C. L. LaCroix
Summary: Because in his cold, still heart, he felt the warmth of certainty and knew he was as much in love with Jude Connery as he was when he met her. Carlisle/OC
1. Bella

_**Author's Note:** Hello, there. I know the idea of Carlisle with another is a bit far-fetched, but we must keep in mind that this is fan fiction and thus, we have freedom to do whatever we want. Although, I did try very hard to keep every canon characters in character and will continue to do so. _

_If there's something that is not satisfying any of you beautiful readers, feel free to complain. Do whatever you want. Just don't flame because that's just rude. Regarding any complaints on grammar or anything, just post it up and I'll get to it. Thank you. _

_**Disclaimer:** Yeap. _

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I couldn't help but worry over Edward's despondent expression.

I felt that something was wrong, and as much as I wanted to know what was bothering him, I felt like I should leave it alone for the moment. However, like an infection, his mood altered mine and his wellbeing became my main concern for the rest of the trip to his house.

Seeing my expression as we rose in the car, Edward sent me the occasional tight-lipped smile that didn't really reach his beautiful amber eyes and gently held my hand in a response to my concern, but I was far from reassured. Because as soon as he turned back to looking at the road, his expression tightened once again.

I released a small sigh. I really hoped that he would tell me what was wrong.

We were planning on spending the day at his house, seeing as that's one of the only places in which he can show his true nature without being overly cautious, as Charlie had the day off and that made my house off limits. Initially, Edward promised that we could spend time together tomorrow, as he said he wouldn't be much company and that he needed to do something with his family. I didn't want him to feel obligated to spend time with me and as much as I love him, I knew that he had other responsibilities to attend to before I entered his life. However, he said that I was welcome to come over anyways despite that if I wished.

"Are… you sure I won't get in the way of what you're doing?" I asked hesitantly, breaking a small moment of silence. I instantly regretted asking upon seeing his expression, as if my voice had pulled him from a very deep thought. Maybe I should have just agreed to spend time with him tomorrow.

Edward glanced at me sideways, giving a small quirk of his lip. That was the closest I had seen him to happiness in the time I had spent with him today. "Don't be silly, Bella," he said in a surprisingly light voice, turning his eyes once again to the road.

I bit the inside of my cheek and took a resolve to finally ask. "What's wrong, Edward?"

He slowed his driving a bit before regarding me with a contemplative stare. As Edward has never hesitated before in telling me anything, the curiosity and worry within me began to reach its peak. I knew at that moment that whatever issue that was worrying Edward was not his own.

"It's nothing I want to burden you with, Bella," he finally let out, his voice soft.

I wanted to tell him that I didn't mind, that I wanted to help ease his mind in any way that I could. Seeing the sorrow on his face made me withdraw and think that it would be better to keep quiet, at least for now. Pressing him even further would only cause his mind to darken.

And so I kept quiet.

When we pulled up on the dirt road of his house, he didn't immediately get out of the car, and so I stayed put, as well. He gently took my hand in his, as if I would break if he did any more. On his face was a rueful smile and his amber eyes shone brightly despite the cloudiness of the sky. I was suddenly struck with how lucky I was to have him. I grasped his hand in return, giving him any comfort that I could.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm afraid I'm not much company at the moment…" he said rather regretfully as he stared ahead.

I shook my head and gripped his hand tighter in an attempt to tell him that I didn't mind in the slightest. "No, no. Don't worry about it."

He smiled briefly and although I could see small remnants of his previous concern from the slight lines on his face, I knew that he was trying his best. I unclasped my hand from his and gently trailed my fingers over the creases of his face. Edward stiffened at first, though he quickly relaxed under my movements. He let out a small sigh that cooled my skin as his eyelids fluttered close.

"Tell me what's wrong," I whispered as I cupped his cool cheek, feeling his angled cheekbone beneath my palm.

"In due time," he said, minding the tone of his smooth voice, no doubt in an attempt to lighten my spirits. "In the meantime, let's get you inside," he said. He covered my hand with his own. "Your hands are cold."

The house felt rather empty without anyone lingering in the living room to greet us as we entered. I at least expected Alice to be here, as she was always in the house whenever I visited. I turned to look at Edward, who was gently sliding my coat from my shoulders as he usually did.

"Where is everyone?" I asked as I looked around the open room.

He glanced at me as he hung the coat on the rack at the regular speed of a human. I noticed that Edward has been doing everything at regular human speed today. I wonder if he was doing this simply for my benefit or maybe… to prolong the inevitable. I was convinced that it had more to do what he's been worrying about all day.

"Everyone else is away," he replied quietly as he made his way over to me. He guided me further into the house by placing a hand on the small of my back and gently pushing me forward. "Presently, only Carlisle is here."

"Where are they?" I asked, my voice equally hushed. Even despite that, my voice seemed to echo around the house.

"Please excuse me, Bella. I need to speak to my father," Edward said instead of replying in a rather despondent manner, as if his vague reply hadn't been enough to raise the worry within me.

And as quickly as I blinked, he suddenly disappeared, leaving a rush of air past me from the super speed he used to carry himself upstairs. I was left bewildered and alone.

Was something the matter? I knew that Edward must have had something important to discuss with Carlisle to need to leave so abruptly as he did. He must have been hearing his thoughts from when we entered.

I stood by the foot of the stairs, trying to hear anything at all from their conversation. It was futile, however. It seemed that they were mindful of the volume of their speeches. My curiosity had gotten the better of me, however, and soon, I found myself creeping up the steps with a light foot, although I had no doubt that Carlisle and Edward were able to hear me anyways. I touched the wall lightly with my fingertips to help my balance.

Soon enough, I found myself on the height of the stairs. Oddly enough, it was silent save for my soft breathing. I didn't know what I had expected, but it certainly wasn't the absolute quietness that took over the halls. They must have heard me come upstairs.

"Wait, wait, keep it steady."

I was so startled by the girl's voice that I had to hold onto the wall to keep myself from tripping. That sounded like… _Alice_? I thought there was no one here other than Carlisle. I saw the door on the far right slightly ajar and the soft glow of light reflecting on the wooden floor.

I walked towards the room with soft steps, feeling a small guilt as I did so.

"Ah, Alice, _please_."

I recognized that to be the calming voice of Carlisle. In his reply, however, he seemed humored and his gentle lilt touched with an old European accent held a jesting plead that I've never heard before. Always, he's been the cool, level-headed father of Edward.

I pushed the door gently with the tip of my fingers and entered. And I did see Carlisle. He was on the TV screen, chuckling slightly, as he was pushed forward by the person I can only assume was Alice, who was the one holding the camera. I looked around the room quickly, but no one seemed to be there. Cautiously, I dared to walk in a little farther until I stood right in front of the TV screen.

"Go ahead, Carlisle."

That wasn't Alice. Though the camera was angled in a different direction, I recognized that to be the voice of Rosalie. Suddenly, the camera shifted and I knew that Rosalie must have taken the camera from Alice's hands. Alice was suddenly in the frame and pushing Carlisle forward.

"You guys, don't force him."

I didn't recognize that voice. I shifted slightly from where I stood to get a better look at the television screen. To my surprise, Carlisle leaned forward and pressed his lips on the cheek of a dark-haired girl with large, black-rimmed glasses.

But suddenly, the frame froze and I was staring at the smiling face of Carlisle Cullen.

"Bella."

I gave a small gasp and turned around quickly. I knew I was in no real danger, but I felt my heart skip a beat just because I was caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. Just because I saw something that I'm sure I shouldn't have.

I was looking at the young face of Carlisle.

He stood at the doorway, looking away from the television screen, holding a remote control. The expression on his face contrasted greatly with the one on the screen—I can't even describe it. It was a great combination of regret, sorrow, and pain, and my words aren't doing any justice at all to any of his emotions. Just staring at his face—his beautiful face, always so reassuring and smiling—was suddenly contorted in an expression that resembled excruciating agony.

"I…-" I attempted to grasp at words. What could I have said? I considered telling him that I went to this room—a room that I had realized was his study as I observed the desk neatly stacked with piled of medical paperwork—in an attempt to look for them. But with one look at his pain-ridden face, the only thing I could say was, "I-I'm sorry."

He did not respond and instead, pressed his pale lips tighter in a line.

"Bella," I recognized Edward's voice.

I worriedly looked at Carlisle before slowly making my way towards Edward. He then gently draped an arm over my shoulder.

"Edward…" I whispered.

Carlisle haltingly walked from where he stood to the open window of his study. Although he faced the open space of the woods, his thumb pressed the play button of the player and it film continued on. The clean glass reflected the expression of pure misery on his face as he allowed the video to continue on.

"I can't believe you guys made it," she said, pushing the dark-rimmed glasses farther on her nose.

"I promised we were going to," said Alice happily, jumping excitedly as she did so.

The Carlisle on the screen merely smiled before giving her shoulder a small squeeze. His crystal-like amber eyes, and exact replica of that of his family's, shone with a fondness and adoration that I had often seen Edward wear when he looked at me.

I stared at Edward in utter bewilderment. Who was this girl? I didn't understand.

"Who is she?" I whispered. I grew even more confused as Carlisle pressed a lingering kiss on the side of her mouth. I also felt the slight sting of betrayal on Esme's behalf, whom I've been led to believe that Carlisle loved very much.

But if so, how could he do such a thing? And to Esme? Sweet, caring Esme that was the mother of his children, even if separated by blood.

Edward closed his eyes briefly as if to clear his thoughts of anything before opening his mouth to speak.

"Her name is Alex Connery. Jude, she likes to be called."

I swallowed slightly upon hearing Carlisle's soft lilt instead of Edward. He didn't turn from the glass window and his tight grip on the remote never once faltered. I was unsure whether or not to ask what I wanted to, so I glanced at Edward in question to who this Alex Connery is. In turn, his gaze shifted to his father, as if the information was not his to share.

Carlisle did not speak, however.

Instead, he turned the television off. With one glance at both of us, Carlisle then exited the room without another word.


	2. Carlisle

_**Author's Note: **I swear to you readers that this fan fiction has a plot. It's not merely a "love at first sight" plot, either. I just added that as a literary device. And there's mild angst in this, but this is only the second prologue. The next chapter will finally get into the core of the fic. And also, keep in mind of the dates, please. Thanks for reading._

_Will you tell me of any typos? _

_**Disclaimer: **Yeah._

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_**12 February 2005**_

_**10:48 a.m.**_

Carlisle Cullen inhaled the familiar scent of the clean hospital. Though many people loath the smell of hospitals due to perhaps the fear and memories that clung it like death, the smell of antiseptics was the only aroma that could bring him the closest to any sort of comfort. And Carlisle knew that he would take all that he could get.

"Doctor Cullen," Brett Warner, a fellow colleague, greeted with a slight grin. Upon turning his head, Carlisle noticed that the cheer on the man's grizzled face faltered instantly. The doctor vaguely wondered with a humorless chuckle whether he looked as terrible as he felt.

"Good morning, Brett," he greeted politely. Brett gave silently appraised Carlisle for retaining his normal light lilt. The doctor, however, gave no indication of acknowledgement to his stare, as he turned away from the man soon enough and busied himself with lining the stack of papers on his desk to perfection.

"I just wanted to tell you that your daughter's here," he said.

Carlisle's response was merely a barely-visible, half-felt smile and a nod.

As Brett made a movement to leave the doctor's office, he hesitated for a moment and his stare lingered on Carlisle. Though he has worked with the man for only a little over two years, he has grown to respect him both as a doctor and a person. The nurse worriedly looked at Carlisle, who seated himself on the desk chair with the grace that he has always possessed. It was concerning to see the man in such low spirits.

However, finally resolving to the insistence of his better judgment, Brett Warner left Doctor Cullen alone. After all, however much he respected him, Brett was certain that he would be of little help, as their relationship was strictly within the boundary of mere colleagues and nothing more.

However, Brett hoped that the Doctor would cheer up soon. A sullen Carlisle Cullen was simply unnatural.

He closed his eyes briefly, if only to escape a sense of reality for the moment. As soon as he heard the clacking of a familiar pair of high heels from a great distance away, however, Carlisle knew that Rosalie would quickly pull him back into existence.

"Carlisle," she greeted softly, so quietly that he would not have heard had his senses not have been heightened. Rosalie stood right beside the open door.

The Doctor's eyes fluttered open, revealing a deep set of amber eyes so similar to those of his children. They held an unspeakable tiredness to them. Though his appearance still depicted the youth of a man who was only beginning life, his shining eyes of gold reflected the eyes of a wise being who has seen many pains on the world.

"Rosalie," he said warmly, clasping his pale hands together on the table. He attempted at a smile. He then paused. "How is your mother?"

Underneath the casual question, Rosalie heard the caution and the real answer that he sought from her. Rosalie decided to play along.

"She's fine," she replied. Staring at his adoptive father discreetly, Rosalie then added slowly, "Esme's with Alice in Seattle."

Carlisle's face relaxed in what could have been a small sense of relief. However, in mere seconds, his perfectly shaped brows furrowed and his jaw tightened from guilt. In shame of himself, Carlisle angled his face slightly to hide away from his daughter and curled a hand right over his mouth.

Rosalie sighed softly and gave a small shake of her head, her golden curls swaying around slightly, before closing the door with a soft click to give them both the privacy that they needed. She made her way around the office desk until she was right behind her father before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, so light that he barely even felt it. He recognized the comfort that she gave him and placed a pale hand over hers in gratitude.

Rosalie was the one who best understood him, what he was going through. Though she could not entirely relate to his situation, she knew it better than anyone. The mixture of guilt, longing, sadness, and the small relief that made up the bitter-sweet ache in his chest. Yes, she understood.

A moment of silence stood between them.

"She's here, you know," Rosalie said quietly. Her grip on her father's shoulder tightened only slightly—a reaction unconsciously done from nervousness, he noticed—as she did her best to gauge his reaction from where she stood.

"I know," he said.

Glancing at his daughter's beautiful face lined with worry, he let out a tight smile, as if to say that everything was okay. Was he the cause for such a forlorn expression?

Rosalie was not fooled.

"Don't lie to me, Carlisle," she said, though not unkindly, "You shouldn't have to lie to me."

He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled. If he imagined hard enough, he could almost envision _her_ there, standing right before him with that slight quirk of her lips that she always greeted him with before. After all, her scent, taunting him, clung onto the walls of the hospital ever since he entered—so strong, in fact, that proximity seemed not to matter.

"_Hi, Carlisle_," she would say with a grin before tracing her fingertips lightly on the side of his perfectly angled cheek.

In which he would reply with a serene smile of his own, detached from any worries and simply let himself be overtaken by affection, before saying in a perfect melody, "_Hey, Jude."_

And then they would laugh. Because even though the joke was used too many times than she could count and it was not particularly funny, it was their joke. And that made it special.

He knew these moments where the ones that he would keep close.

But then Carlisle opened his eyes and the reality of his situation seemed to suffocate him.

"Have… have you seen her?" he asked thickly.

"I have," Rosalie replied in the same quiet voice. The hand on his shoulder seemed to tighten ever so slightly.

"How is she?"

She looked at him as he asked this. Rosalie, seeing the deep furrow of his brow, felt the urge to turn away. She didn't, however, and refused to look at anything but his father's eyes to prove her strength and words. It didn't lessen the pain, however, of seeing her father in such a state of distress.

"She's"—she swallowed slightly—"she's doing fine." And then she added in a much lighter tone, "She still hadn't gotten new glasses."

Rosalie saw his lip quirk slightly and his golden eyes distant in a faraway memory.

But as quickly as it came, it suddenly disappeared.

"I'll go see her," he whispered.

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Carlisle Cullen has made it through his long existence by basing his movements with precision and his actions with careful thought. Care has led him to avoid leading his long life with the heavy burden of regrets. Precision has led him to evade the mess of solutions that would lead to further damaging consequences.

He knew he was breaking his own rule by visiting this girl. It was rash, he knew. It was unplanned. It certainly was not careful.

And yet he had to see her.

Because in his cold, still heart, he felt the warmth of certainty and knew he was as much in love with Jude Connery as he was when he met her.

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_Review, please? It would certainly drive me to update fast to know that _someone_ out there is reading._


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